First Comes Desire. Tina Donahue
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On a lush, secluded island, one passionate adventure leads to another….
Diana Fletcher means business. The beautiful, innocent, reverend’s daughter has traveled all the way to a tropical island off Madagascar on a mission: To find her brother—and to punish the man who drove him to a life of piracy. But when she comes face to face with the enemy in question, the handsome, powerfully seductive man is not at all what Diana expected…
Tristan Kent never intended to harm Diana’s brother. A man of humble origins, Tristan claims he tried to save him from another ruthless captain. Diana is desperate to believe he is telling the truth…and that the intoxicating desire that escalates between them is true as well. But can she trust him? Or is Tristan’s story—and his heart—nothing more than fool’s gold? Amid the haze of sensual delights and soaring ecstasy Tristan has in store for her, all will be revealed…
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Books by Tina Donahue
Dangerous Desires
Loving Lies
Wicked Whispers
Passionate Pursuit
Pirate’s Prize
First Comes Desire
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
First Comes Desire
Pirate’s Prize
Tina Donahue
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2016 by Tina Donahue
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First Electronic Edition: February 2017
eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0062-0
eISBN-10: 11-5161-0062-X
First Print Edition: February 2017
ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0065-1
ISBN-10: 1-5161-0065-4
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
To my street team, Tina’s Romance Rebels, and my team leader, Pamela Leonhardt. I couldn’t have done this without you ladies. You rock!
Author’s Foreword
From the moment I read Shanna, I fell in love with historical romances and tropical locales. Nothing is more seductive than lush island nights and a hero who not only commands but also cherishes. Falling in love with Tristan was easy. How I envy Diana in having his passion. How I raged against those who wanted to separate them. Enter the world I created in First Comes Desire and be swept away.
Acknowledgements
To Penny Barber, an exceptional editor.
Chapter 1
Madagascar—1717
Harsh breathing pulled Tristan Kent from sleep.
Snores rose from his crew, his men having collapsed earlier from rumfustian, a potent mixture of sherry, gin, and beer. If their past imbibing served as evidence, they’d remain unconscious until dawn, sprawled on the isolated beach.
He inhaled deeply and relaxed.
Whispers intruded. Heated murmurs followed, drifted close, and stopped abruptly.
“On your feet, Kent. Do it now, coward.” A young woman had spoken, her British accent refined, tone decidedly heated.
His pulse jumped. Eyes closed, he lay motionless against his bed of felled mangroves. At any other time, he would have murdered the person who dared insult him. Not now. What he’d heard made no sense. He hadn’t been in an Englishwoman’s company in more than four years. Those females had never used cultured speech or their mouths for anything other than delivering the most wanton pleasure.
Pretending sleep, he stretched his legs lazily over the sand and hit an obstacle.
The thing kicked back. “Do as I’ve ordered or die where you are.”
Sweat prickled his neck. He inched his hand from beneath his book to the brace of pistols across his chest. Like other pirates, he was never without his weapons. Unlike most, he never overindulged in drink, as his occupation hardly ensured a long and pleasant rest or life. Even so, he never believed an educated Englishwoman would challenge him.
He couldn’t fathom who she might be, what she wanted, or how she’d come to this particular spot. The hidden beach offered protection against attack or capture while his crew careened the Quest, the sloop he commanded. Brimstone and tallow antifouling reeked on the balmy night breeze.
She kicked his foot harder.
He touched his pistol and opened his eyes. Firelight danced in the muggy breeze casting the exposed hull and mast in a hellish orange glow.
Her rapier point nearly rested on his throat. “If you’re incapable of moving, my blade shall.”
It already had. Any closer and she’d shed his blood. Before he died or they both did, Tristan looked up.
She was young, surely no more than twenty or so, skin fair and flawless, eyes lushly lashed, though he couldn’t determine the color. They seemed too dark to be blue, too fair to be brown. Her features were elegant, lips full and rich, overall surprisingly exquisite.
His mouth went dry.
Only her clothing disappointed. A cap covered her hair, though a few dark tresses had escaped. She’d hidden her womanly form in canvas trousers, a patterned shirt, and short blue jacket. The mild breeze ruffled her clothes, pressing them into the alluring swell of her unbound breasts.
Despite his disquiet and confusion, he smiled.
Bewilderment swept her face, and then she frowned. “On your feet